


Seeing Stars

by suna_scribbles



Series: Deception [3]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, First Time, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Size Difference, Smut, Xeno, Xenophilia, hana fucks a giant robot okay what do you want from me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-26
Updated: 2018-09-26
Packaged: 2019-07-18 01:20:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16107800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suna_scribbles/pseuds/suna_scribbles
Summary: Giant robot xeno sex! No plot whatsoever!





	Seeing Stars

**Author's Note:**

> I may or may not have Cyberformed Hana just so she wouldn't die during giant robot sex, don't @ me
> 
> As requested by anon and aster45 ! Enjoy my shameless xeno smut!

I snapped upright, heart pounding at a million miles an hour. My chest heaved as hefty breaths entered and exited my lungs as though they had never tasted air before. My hands felt like they were on fire, energon searing inside the metal, sparking and glowing vibrantly in the darkness of the room. The sudden awakening was even more surprising than the sensations ripping through my body—I was generally a heavy sleeper, evident by the fact that Ratchet was gone, and I hadn’t even heard him leave.

A dream. I had dreamt of something, something that sent adrenaline shooting through my veins, the residual drops refusing to leave my system.

I sat upright, forcing my breathing to slow. My shirt was soaked with sweat, hands shaking as though I had just run a marathon.

What the hell had I dreamt about? I sifted through my memories, turning up nothing. Whatever it was, any hope of recollection was gone, replaced only with faint blurs of color and some sizzling emotion that sent tremors through my entire body. I saw the biolights on my hands flare as smudges of white and grey and orange rocketed through my brain, too quick to make sense of.

Once my heartbeat had steadied to something more natural, I stood and headed for the main room, strangely twitchy, hyperalert to every centimeter of concrete against my bare feet, the soft brush of my shirt against my skin. 

Ratchet was, of course, standing at his computer, his posture significantly better than it had been even weeks ago. Optimus refused to let him into the field, and Ratchet had complied without question, instead returning his efforts to something less physically strenuous. He was currently typing rapidly, sending a scanner flying wildly across the map on his screen.

“Morning, Ratchet,” I called. He grunted in reply.

I grabbed a few scanners from the medical bay, performing my routine check of his vitals. He was, as he had been for some time, in perfectly good shape. His reconstructed chest was free of scars, hands nimble after endless massages, legs still slightly weaker than normal but functional otherwise. 

I noticed my eyes sliding over him quite slowly as I scanned him, adoring the intricacies of his form. Even after exploring nearly every inch of him while he had been incapacitated, I had never taken time to truly appreciate how complicated his build was. The way each metal plate slid so easily over the next, the fluidity with which his joints moved—it was nothing short of remarkable. His head revolved just slightly as he looked to another corner of the screen, and I watched the motion in awe, completely fixated on the rotation of every wire and hinge in his neck.

I felt a spasm deep underneath my stomach, a peculiar twinge that radiated through my body, sending more spikes of adrenaline into my blood. I blinked confusedly and lifted my hands, unable to ignore how the fingers were continuing to tremble.

“How am I looking, Hana?” Ratchet asked idly.

My face grew hot for some reason. “What?”

“My vitals?”

“Oh,” I said, lowering my eyes. “E-everything’s fine. Tip top shape. Just keep… working on your legs.”

“Will do,” he replied calmly. I touched my face, shocked to find it burning. 

_What the hell?_

I balled a fist around my sweaty shirt, trying to slow my heartbeat, which was so strong that I felt it along every edge of my body. I had never felt like this before—I could feel the blood surging through my veins, the energon in my hands glowing oddly bright. 

My eyes were locked on Ratchet as I tried to place the sensation. I stared at his back, his legs, taking in every miniscule movement as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. The way his hips swung just slightly as he readjusted—my heart began to pound once again. 

I clenched my jaw, hard, balling my hands into fists over and over as the realization slapped me in the face— _oh, no._

“You’ve been standing there for some time,” Ratchet said, his back still to me, returning his weight to the other side with a gentle sway of the hips. “Is everything alright?”

_Oh, my God. No. No, that can’t be it. No way._

The dream was returning to me bit by bit with every thump of my heart. Why had I dreamt about _that?_ Was it even _possible?_ Did he even have the parts for it? My eyes hadn’t moved from Ratchet’s frame, stomach doing flip flops. 

Ratchet turned to face me, looking confused as his vibrant blue optics met mine. “You look feverish,” he noted. “Perhaps you should lie down.”

“I—yeah,” I said, clenching my fist tighter, unable to pull my eyes from his. “I do feel a little funny.”

“Go to the medical bay and give yourself an examination,” he said, looking toward his screen once again. “If you need anything at all, call for me.”

“Yeah.” 

_Don’t be an idiot,_ I told myself firmly.

My brain urged my feet to move, but they stayed planted on the ground. Despite his order, I couldn’t bring myself to leave. I was fixated on him, watching his every motion, begging my body to turn away, to contain myself. My muscles didn’t respond, ignoring me entirely and instead carrying me a few steps in his direction.

_Wait—no!_

My fingers were practically tearing holes in my thin shirt.

_He’s gonna think you’re_ nuts _!_

“Where are the others?” I asked. My hand drifted upwards, pulling my shirt over my head. The cool air collided with my flushed skin, the exposure making my heart flutter, energon spiking toward my brain, making me lightheaded. I felt drugged, my EM field itching to touch Ratchet’s, my body moving without permission from my consciousness, every sense heightened.

_Stop it!_

“Recon, as usual,” Ratchet said as I continued slowly toward him. “We detected some strange Decepticon activity at a mine in Iran, and Optimus wanted to investigate. I’ve been checking for enemy signals while they scout the area.”

“Interesting,” I said, hooking my thumbs on my shorts. I stepped delicately out of them, abandoning them on the floor.

“I suppose you could say that,” Ratchet said absently. “It’s likely nothing, but we’re starting to run low on energon, and if the Decepticons are as well, we may need to increase our search in order to secure any veins of energon before they do.”

“Makes sense.” I guided my panties down, placing a foot on the stairs and starting a slow ascent.

“Yes, it does.” Ratchet wasn’t paying any attention as I climbed the staircase, one hand sliding over the handrail, gripping it hard with my Cybertronian hand, relishing in the sensation of metal on metal.

“Hey, Ratchet,” I said, my mind slowly going blank, driven entirely by instinct. “Can I show you something?”

“I’m a little busy, if you haven’t noticed. Save it for later.”

I reached the notoriously squeaky stair, and it creaked loudly under my weight. Ratchet, finally noticing my pursuit, turned his head to look at me. His optics widened as he saw me staring at him, completely nude, gradually walking up the stairs. 

“What are you doing?” he asked, his brow lowering, his expression shifting from mild confusion to complete bewilderment as his optics flicked up and down my body.

“I said I wanted to show you something,” I replied simply.

“And you decided taking off your clothes was the best way to do so?” His tone was cold, but I was thrilled to see his optics glow brighter and brighter the longer his gaze lingered on me. I could feel his EM field expanding and edging toward mine, wordless emotions becoming apparent every second: _beautiful, sexy, Primus, frag, no, can’t do that, but I need her, need her, need her._

“Can I try something?”

Ratchet frowned. “What has gotten into you?”

Our eyes were level now, and I reached a hand out toward his baffled face. He blinked a few times, sending a strobe light of blue flashing over my rosy skin. 

“Just let me try this,” I whispered, pulling his face toward mine and closing my eyes as I kissed him. He didn’t respond for a few seconds, his mouth frozen against mine, but eventually he began to relax and reciprocate.

Heat radiated across my body, my skin sizzling with anticipation as we kissed. It was always wonderful, kissing him—infrequent, given Ratchet’s timid attitude toward showing affection in front of the team, but that only made every touch more special, more intimate.

Excited at the prospect of an empty base, I tried my luck and kissed him deeper, tilting my head to the side—he wordlessly followed. My stomach did backflips as his face warmed up, matching the searing heat of my own Cybertronian parts, every degree evident in the sensitive wiring. Blood rushed to portions of my body that had never been reached before—not like this.

I parted my lips and slowly poked my tongue forward. He jerked backwards, looking alarmed, his EM field swelling magnificently and then retracting almost tentatively. 

“What are you _doing?_ ” His faceplates were red hot—whether with arousal or embarrassment, I couldn’t be sure. His EM field was frazzled and filled with static as thoughts rushed through his processors, parts of his frame springing to life that hadn’t been activated in centuries.

“Just trust me,” I said, grabbing his face with more force and pulling back in. I knew he was strong enough to turn away, far stronger than I was, but he didn’t resist, allowing me to kiss him again with full strength, tongue and all. I could sense his tension waning as he slowly opened his own mouth, the sharp point of his own glossa edging against mine, closely mimicking my movements. I felt him inhale deeply as his hands moved against my back, the metal hot to the touch. His fingers wrapped tightly around me, squeezing me hard, pulling me close. His glossa was massive, filling my mouth completely—a muffled, sensual groan escaped my lips. Our EM fields began to intertwine for just a moment; the sensation was unreal, pushing past excitement and simple horniness and forming into irresistible lust. 

He suddenly stopped and moved his head back, eyes wide. “I’m sorry,” he said immediately. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, that was good,” I said, grazing my fingers along his cheeks.

“I—” He looked away. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do here. You’re a… human, after all.”

“Do whatever you want,” I urged.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“In that case—” 

Ratchet lifted me off my feet and carried me to the medical bay, placing me down on the berth and positioning himself on top of me. I stared up at him, breathing hard.

“You look frightened,” he said uncertainly.

“I’m not,” I said. “I promise.”

I closed my eyes as he descended toward me, relishing in the feeling of his glossa dancing around mine. He began to move with far more intensity, lowering his body dangerously close to mine, his glossa moving from my mouth and onto my jawline, gently tracing its outline. He teased at my lower lip, sucking gently at, then harder, biting down. I moaned quietly, my thighs tensing of their own accord.

“Why do you keep making those sounds?” he asked, pushing away once again.

“Because I don’t want you to stop,” I said, blushing scarlet when I heard the neediness in my voice. Ratchet looked taken aback, his optics shifting and widening, more blue light washing over me.

I bit my cheek hard as he placed his lips against my stomach, shivers rippling across my skin. His glossa whispered across me, hot and slightly damp, the sharp tip leaving behind goosebumps as it moved. 

The air suddenly crackled with electricity that made my Cybertronian fingers twitch wildly, static filling my brain. Vents opened across Ratchet and roared with life, blasting hot air over my face, and his body cascaded lower. His weight pressed wonderfully against me, pushing the breath from my lungs, my throat emitting a strange sound between a breathless wheeze and a needy whine. I heard a loud _clunk_ , and my skin was abruptly doused in blue as Ratchet’s optics flew open.

“What was that?” I asked nervously, worry temporarily smothering my arousal.

Ratchet’s vents were flared wide, his plates hot against my bare skin, threatening to sear the delicate flesh. He glanced downward, and my heart began to pound.

“That hasn’t happened in a while,” he said curiously, dodging the question as he so often did.

“Huh?”

“Are you sure about this?” He was looking me square in the face now, obviously breathing hard, grimacing just slightly as though in pain. “I can power it down if you don’t.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Answer me.”

“Jesus, Ratchet, of course I do, don’t you understand body language? I’ve never wanted anything more than I want you right now.” That was way more than I expected to say, but the reaction I got in response was beyond perfect.

The air crackled with more voltage as his vents began to whir harder, prickling at my already-sensitive skin, making me shudder. He bit his lip just slightly, meeting my gaze, expression heavy with something I had never seen before—lust.

“Let me know immediately if you want to stop—got it?” He was firm despite the obvious yearning deep in his optics. His spark was fully bared behind the glass, naked and bold, shining as though he held the sun in his helm.

“Got it,” I said, barely recognizing the begging in my tone. “Stop making me wait.”

He smiled at my pleading eagerness, and his twisted expression cleared as plates and panels shifted between his wonderfully sloping thighs, immediately diminishing any doubt I had about whether or not he had the right parts for the job.

It was enormous—at least two feet long, and so thick that I doubted I could wrap both hands around it. His optics rolled back slightly as it was exposed; mine practically bugged out of my head.

“That’s gonna rip me in half,” I said nervously.

“Nonsense,” he muttered, placing a knee between my legs, spreading them wide. “Your internals are Cyberformed. They’ll adjust.”

“I’m going to die, aren’t I?”

“Hush. Now then—”

He dove back in, forcing my hands above my head with an effortless grip, kissing me harder than I’d ever been kissed. I moaned around his glossa, worries forgotten, feeling the gentle graze of the spike against one of my thighs—it was wonderfully warm, slightly wet with some kind of heated lubrication that dripped thickly onto the berth. My hips bucked in its direction automatically, yearning for its touch.

“What a needy girl,” he growled into my lips, melting me into liquid. His vents were blowing wildly, heat and electricity skating across the surface of my skin, heightening my senses to a nearly-painful high, rendering my mind numb. I wanted to say something, to mock him for speaking in such an uncharacteristic manner, but every inch of my body was being claimed by his touch, every desire concentrated on him.

I reached up as he temporarily pulled away to adjust, begging with my eyes for him to come back. His expression clouded with a strange sort of ecstasy as I tugged at him, and my heart swelled with love and my thighs raged with stimulation.

“Primus, Hana,” he whispered, his voice deep and husky. His EM field was swirling, loving emotions poking through the animalistic. “You’re so beautiful, sweetspark.”

He had never called me a pet name before, and the word alone played at my ears like the most stunning melody I had ever heard. My legs twitched against his knee, which was still forcing me wide open, the hot metal dampening my skin with sweat and a cocktail of other fluids. I felt his hips duck dangerously downward, the spike brushing against my most sensitive areas, sending my body involuntarily in its direction. 

“Not particularly patient, are we?” Ratchet teased quietly, his glossa wrapping around each of my fingers individually as he spoke, making me whimper. All of my nervousness and shame had vanished long ago, replaced with only one thought— _I need him._

I managed to vocalize my desires as he suckled my fingers: “Ratchet, I need you, please.”

He grinned mischievously. “How can I deny such politeness?” he purred.

His knee disappeared from between my thighs, replaced with the hot tip of his spike before I could protest the temporary lack of stimulation. It was smooth, pressed against me but not yet entering. I didn’t notice that I had closed my eyes until Ratchet’s rapid breaths moved onto my face, his gorgeously gruff voice urging me to open them. I obliged. 

“I want you to look me right in the optics as I frag you,” he murmured. Biolights were flickering all across his body in places I had never seen them before, illuminating the room with striking blue, fiery red, shimmering yellow. He was breathing in time with his thundering vents, the heat sending me into a sex-crazed haze.

All I could do was nod in response.

His hips jerked forward, and the spike slid in.

My screams were caught somewhere between pain and pure ecstasy as the massive tip of the spike filled me easily, surely the biggest thing that had ever entered a human. Ratchet groaned even louder than I was yelling, drowning me out completely, and the spike twitched, humming and vibrating inside me. His EM field surged and twisted, crashing and merging with mine, every pulse of his spark shuddering in time with my own heartbeat. His thoughts became mine: _Primus, Hana, need her, taking her, more, please, more._

I looked down for a moment to see a large glowing lump under my skin, but Ratchet tilted my chin back toward his before I could examine it too closely.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, legs shaking, clearly fighting a million urges to first ensure I was okay.

I didn’t know how to respond—not that it mattered. I could barely make a sound anyway. The answer was blaring in my mind: the spike hurt like nothing ever had, stretching me to my absolute limit, its size alone keeping my legs spread wide. I felt shifting inside my abdomen, the Cybertronian biology within me cycling and expanding desperately to accommodate the spike, shoving organs out of the way.

But more than anything, it felt _amazing._ The biolights on my hands were practically blinding as light flew out of them, even my energon-stained bruises glowing as my head spun in ecstasy.

I curled upwards as Ratchet thrusted, my entire body bucking. He held me in place as I craned toward his neck, desperately biting at the energon lines embedded deep in his neck to stifle my pathetic whimpers. He released a loud moan and buried himself deeper inside me—I screamed into his circuitry.

“No, no, no, Hana,” he muttered, pulling me down by the arms and pinning them above my head. “I _said_ I wanted you to look at me.”

He thrusted again, and then again—no longer able to smother the sounds in the gorgeous slopes of his neck, every one of his movements forced loud moans from my lips. His eyes narrowed as he watched me squirm below him, and the heady expression sent a whole new wave of heat and excitement to my thighs. He clearly noticed, smirking with his optics lowered alluringly, and began to move faster.

My mind went completely blank under Ratchet’s stunning gaze, completely transfixed with every movement in his face, the flickers of concentration followed shortly by brief bouts of unadulterated thrill. His optics, usually so firm and proud, were melting into erotic pools of blue, his every sensation exposed for only me to see. My heart raced at the prospect—he was weak for me, and for me only. _I_ was making his gaze tender, thawing that sexy sternness into liquid.

His spike began vibrating viciously, and he threw his head downward, finally breaking the eye contact. The tremors rocked my entire body, and with sudden desperation to look at him, I grabbed his face, hooking a thumb under his upper lip. He jerked upwards, and his expression was so heavy, so overwhelmed with pleasure, pleading with his eyes for me to continue on his behalf, that I immediately felt an orgasm rip through my body. I seized as shudders shook through me, so fantastically strong that I didn’t even care as his name spouted from my lips over and over. 

His fingers drift seemingly involuntarily toward my face as I climaxed, and I grabbed them with all of my remaining strength and pushed them into my mouth, nipping and wrapping my tongue around each finger, licking at each incredible knuckle. His head, his beautiful fucking head, tossed back as I did so, his throbbing EM field begging for me to continue— _don’t stop, don’t stop, Hana, don’t stop, just like that, oh Primus, Hana._ I pulled his index finger against my lips and suckled at the joints, tasting every inch.

He started saying my name aloud, the low growl rising into a scream as he plunged as deep as possible, warm fluid erupting inside me like a volcano as he overloaded. It was incredible to watch—his mouth was frozen open as he shrieked my name, vents howling, every biolight on his body igniting as though he were engulfed in blue flames. I climaxed again just looking at him, listening to our moans as they bounced off the walls around us, electrical charges filling me from the inside out and pushing me close to something of an ecstasy-induced seizure.

His overload finally subsided, replaced with breathless panting and the deafening roar of his vents. His spike withdrew from between my legs, a rush of fluids flowing out of me and pooling on the berth. I whimpered.

Ratchet placed a hand tenderly on my cheek, his fingers radiating even hotter than my own burning skin. I simply stared at him, chest heaving as air pumped in and out, heart thumping in my chest. Our EM fields tangled and embraced, every thought merging, singing unspoken words to each other.

“How was that?” he purred, speaking aloud at last. 

I replied only with a breathless smile.

His spike was still dripping, drenching me completely in sweet-smelling liquid. I barely noticed, instead keeping my eyes locked on his, listening closely as his venting slowed.

“I—love you,” I managed.

Ratchet beamed and dipped downward to place a miniscule kiss on my nose. “I’ve never loved anything as much as I love you,” he replied.

I kept my hand on his face as we gazed at each other, our eyes darting across the other’s features, absorbing every tiny movement.

“I can see energon in your eyes,” Ratchet noted softly. “It looks wonderful.”

I shyly looked away. He tapped my face, coaxing my eyes to return to his.

“No, sweetspark, don’t be timid,” he cooed. “You never have to be shy around me.”

I smiled as he kissed me again. He tasted amazing after overloading so strongly, electric, like the sky before a storm.

The world around us slowly started to return, and Ratchet heaved himself from the berth, immediately spinning toward me with his servos extended, spike exposed for the world to see, still glowing. “Can you walk?” he asked nervously.

I tested my legs, clumsily attempting to stand and immediately toppling over. Ratchet caught me mid-fall, looking concerned.

“It’s fine,” I said quickly, cutting off his inevitable speech before it began. His mouth snapped shut. “I just… need a few minutes.”

As if on cue, a loud screeching _beep_ made its way into our minds, startling our intertwined EM fields into submission. Ratchet looked alarmed, wiping hastily at my soaked body and placing me on his shoulder as he rushed to his computer.

“What is it?” he asked into the comm-link.

“Ratchet! _There_ you are!” Arcee did _not_ sound happy. “We’ve been pinging you for ages! We need a GroundBridge, and fast—we snagged some energon, and the Cons are on full alert looking for us!”

Ratchet’s optics swiveled to face me, perched naked on his shoulder. I stared back, frozen in place. I heard a few loud _clanks_ as panels contained his spike once again.

“I—right away, yes,” he said, closing the comm-link, swiping my clothes from the floor as he headed toward the GroundBridge controls. I yanked them over my moderately-dry body, leaning heavily against Ratchet as I did so—my legs were refusing to function, still trembling from excess hormones, making it incredibly difficult to tug my shorts back into place. My organs were only just starting to drift back into place, my body dejectedly realizing the fun was over.

Ratchet opened the GroundBridge, and the team immediately rushed through, holding armfuls of raw energon. Drift was looking incredibly cheerful as he surveyed their spoils.

“Good morning, Hana!” he said brightly. “Look at all this!”

I kept my place on Ratchet’s shoulder (not by choice) and shot Drift an approving thumbs-up. 

“Looks like a good haul,” I said, aiming for nonchalance, pressing my hands on my shaking thighs to try and encourage them to be still. Ratchet’s optics had shifted to the medbay and widened almost imperceptibly before snapping back to the team. He began to shuffle in front of the berth. I glanced at it by feigning a stretch, my stomach leaping into my throat—it was very, very obviously saturated with the aftereffects of Ratchet’s overload.

“It’s hot in here,” Bulkhead pointed out to no one in particular, wiping his brow. “Are the fans working?”

“Yes,” Ratchet said far too quickly. “Hurry now, get that energon to the refinery.”

Everyone heeded his order except for Drift, who was narrowing his eyes at me, his expression indicating that he was sniffing the air. I clenched my hands into fists, fingers digging into my legs, praying for them to stop _shaking so fucking much._

“What did you two do this morning?” he asked suspiciously. Ratchet somehow managed to clear his expression and scoffed.

“Kept an eye on you,” he said in a falsely collected tone. 

“In _this_ heat?” Drift’s faceplates were shifting into an amused expression.

“We—didn’t notice,” I lied. 

Once the rest of the team had vanished into the refinery, Drift took a few slow steps toward us. I kept my face as blank as possible.

“Why don’t you walk over to me, Hana?” Drift said snidely. “You can help me carry this energon.”

I forced my expression to remain neutral. “But I’m comfortable here.”

“Do it anyway.”

“I-I’m good.”

Drift’s smirk grew dangerously broad. He strode forward boldly, putting an elbow out to block Ratchet as tried to stop his haste.

“Drift—wait—” he said. “Raw energon only lasts for so long; it needs to be—”

“ _Move_ ,” Drift demanded, shoving Ratchet aside. I had to clutch to his helm to keep from flying off.

The swordsmech’s eyes immediately landed on the puddle of fluid on the berth, and he staggered back, staring with wide-eyed amusement at Ratchet, pointing at him wordlessly for a few seconds. Ratchet looked at me, his optics pleading for help.

“No,” Drift finally said. “You did _not._ ”

“Don’t—don’t jump to conclusions,” Ratchet stuttered.

“You _didn’t!_ ” Drift exclaimed disbelievingly. “In the _medical bay?_ ”

“Drift—”

“You were _fragging_ in the _middle of the base!_ ”

“We—we were just—”

Drift doubled over in a fit of laughter. “For Primus’ _sake_ , do it on your _own berth_ next time!”

“ _We—_ ”

“Don’t worry, I won’t say anything,” Drift chuckled, waving his hand dismissively, looking smug as he emerged from his hysterics. Ratchet rolled his optics hard. “But you better get that cleaned up before Optimus sees. He might not take to it as well as I am.”

“We _would_ if you would _leave,_ ” Ratchet barked. Drift slapped him proudly on the back, winked at me, and took his leave with a skip in each step.

Ratchet and I stared at each other. He looked livid, and I tried to stifle my own giggles.

“You’re gonna have to clean,” I reminded him. “I can’t walk.”

“What a convenient opt-out,” he grumbled.

“It’s your fault,” I retorted.

He caught me off guard by shooting me a sly smile, his lids lowered alluringly. “You’re damn right it is.”


End file.
